My Tower
by El-Ahrairah
Summary: I was never a one to try new things, or to take the initiative; so you may be surprised that I, Latius Maltne, have become a buoyant armiger. A few reviews would be nice.


MY TOWER

I was never a one to try new things, or to take the initiative; so you may be surprised that I, Latius Maltne, have become a buoyant armiger.

Born in the Colovian Estates to an old Cyrodiil family, I took it upon myself to do as my family required, join the legion. In the academy I did not distinguish myself though I managed to pass all the courses without trouble. I graduated at the age of 21, ready to do whatever I was told. In the ceremony, Lord Harlick remarked, "YOU, are about to embark on the future. A future of glory, glory for the Septim Dynasty, glory for the Imperial Legion, and glory for yourselves. Your enemies will fall at your feet and their wealth will enrich the empire. You will civilize the uncivilized, and bring the light of Imperial Culture to the dark of superstition. The empire has stood for hundreds of years, you will make sure it stands for thousands more!" his face was a deep shade of red now, "May Stendaar bless The Emperor!" after his last exaltation the pug-faced General collapsed, and several healers were brought to help him.

I was assigned to Morrowind at the crossroads of its history. The Nerevarine had recently saved the land from the Devil Dagoth Ur, and the old Tribunal seemed to be weakening. I tried my best to make the best of my stay in Caldera. Corruption grew rancid through the Governor's hall. I never forgot what I had learned in the academy. The virtues of justice and heroism stood ever present in my mind.

One night I took my watch through the dark main street of the city. Caldera really is a quaint town with a simple cobblestone street with buildings built upon it. At nighttime the streets are quiet and empty, though this night I happened upon a young Argonian running into a dark alley near the town's inn. He was followed in close pursuit by a Dunmer with no shirt on. I quickly poked in and found the Dunmer beating the Argonian senselessly holding him against the wall. The Dunmer turned around, and said, rather calmly, "50 Drakes if you keep walking, Sera, just keep walking." I couldn't believe that he would try and bribe me, so I grabbed him and hauled him through the streets of Caldera. He cursed me on our trip, "N'Wah, your time will come, when the empire falls, you'll be the first I'm after!"

After that night I became known as a fair and incorruptible soldier. I never did anything that a hero would have done; I just stayed out of trouble and vice. Fortunately, my superiors had no choice but to promote me to the rank of Knight Errant, and I was made the image of a model Imperial Legionnaire.

On the First Seed of the year 434, Third Era I was appointed Guard Captain of a Trade Convoy moving from Molag Mar to Pelagiad. I was never told what the convoy was carrying, but there were 3 wagons full of whatever item. My guard consisted of 6 other soldiers, and the one who seemed to lead them was an Aldmeri trooper who wore a great deal of gold jewelery. On the bridge moving out of the outpost, he came up to me and said amiably, "Don't worry about these nix hounds, I'll keep em' in line, and we'll get there in a gif," I thanked him, and noted his lack of discipline.

The first leg of the journey was fairly quiet, though the merchants seemed eager to move as fast as possible. However, when we reached the land near Bal Isra I heard footsteps up on the hills on the sides of our foyada. I ordered the caravan to halt, and I heard jingling coming from the wagons. I glanced and saw a glint of gold. The next thing I saw was an arrow whizzing by one of the merchants. About a dozen ashlander raiders emerged over the side of the hill. I drew my sword, raised it, and yelled, "Defend the Caravan!" At the academy, the conventional wisdom when leading a small amount of soldiers was simply to have them freely engage the enemy; only two orders would be feasible; attack or retreat. I dashed up the hill and slashed at the closest Ashlander; he dodged my blade but I kicked him and then severed his head. The next highwayman charged at me with a club raised high, I dived and thrust my longsword into his belly. Suddenly, a sharp pain seared my hip, followed by an intense heat that made me feel as if my entire body was on fire, draining my strength. It was an enchanted arrow. I noticed the bowman on the other side of the foyada being cut down by the Aldmer. Soon more Ashlanders appeared, and I saw my men being overtaken by their lightning fast attack. Again, I was shot by an arrow, only this one had no magick affect. Darkness overtook me.

I woke up as the pain from the fire disappeared. Several bodies where strewn over the land, but the wagons were gone. With great effort, I pulled the arrows off my body and tried to make my way in the direction that the convoy had been going. I trudged through the wasteland for perhaps an hour when three Dunmer appeared some 15 meters before me. At first I thought they were more Ashlanders, except they wore expensive glass armor; not the chitin common to the wasteland people. Anyway, I drew my sword, put one foot in front of the other, staggered, and wondered what would happen next. Their leader made a sign with his hands that sent a spell at me. The silvery light struck me on the chest, but to no pain. I feel into a deep and easy sleep.

Before I opened my eyes I felt a relaxed warmth. Not the hellish firing searing my flesh, but a comfortable and healing touch, it reminded me that I was alive. Being close to death and then back again is a strange feeling. There was something new. I slowly spread eyes and viewed a brown ceiling. Soon, an old Dunmer woman loomed over me; she whispered, "Go to sleep, sera." And asleep I was.

When I came to, I was fully refreshed and felt as though I had never been injured. After carefully slipping out of bed, I dashed out the door of the yurt and onto a large courtyard. It was elevated on top of a building, and across sat an old dunmer who appeared to be sharpening a stick with a dagger. He sat next to a dome with a door on it. I made my way over to him. "Eh, you've been sleeping awhile, Imperial, though I expect Imperials are so weak to need such sleep," he remarked.

"How long?" I asked.

"A week, in fact," he replied, "We've taken you to Marandus."

"Is this place close to an Imperial Garrison? I should get back now."

"Imperial Garrison? Hahahaha," he became hysterical.

"What do you mean?" I wondered what he found funny about the Imperial Legion. He laughed harder, "You mean that you don't know? Why, the empire's collapsed, the Imperial Legion is now just a bunch ragtags, those who haven't escaped Morrowind, that is." I was petrified, there seemed to have been little signs of something like that happening. But now that I thought of it, everything made total sense. I looked to the floor with downcast eyes. "I'm sorry kid; you look as though you did everything you could for them. However, a lot of other humans screwed up, and that's why it happened."

"Wha-what shall I do?" I was worried about what would happen to me.

"Well, you could try and go back to Cyrodiil, or I could put you to work, I suppose I could use somebody with your skills. I guess that I'm taking a gamble with you, but you look like you could do it."

I decided to work for Uvilith Sarethi; he and his ten rogues were currently in the service of the Morrowind Temple to make the pilgrimage routes in the Molag Amur region safer, free of any hostiles. The business was long and tough because the land was largely uncivilized and free of patrols. So he could use another, and I was up. I reconciled being a mercenary by telling myself that at least I was still killing villains.

Over the next few weeks I battled smugglers, ashlanders, and the occasional necromancer. From my enemies I collected powerful weapons and armor, and all sorts of gear better than anything the Legion used to have. As I proved my strength, the members of Sarethi's gang began to accept me more. I found out that they had been tracking the Ashlanders who attacked my caravan. Apparently they had been led by a certain member of the Cammona Tong who used a deadly type of fire-arrow. They had been surprised to find it on me while I was alive. The Dunmer woman who healed me, Mita, regaled me, "There's an old story, about an outlander who fought in a battle against a Hlaalu army; he was shot, recovered, and decided to fight for the Hlaalu; killed most of the other outlanders too."

Sarethi soon decided to let me go on raiding parties with his group. I was now a full-fledged rogue. I felt so much more contented than I had as I knight for the legion; I was in charge of my own life and nothing could stop me.

Some time a month later Sarethi introduced us to a special mission. Apparently a cadre of rogue Telvanni had set up at a Dwemer Ruin near Mt. Assarnibibi. They were assaulting pilgrims, claiming "the tribunal was no more" and that "Peasants were ruling Morrowind". Some accounts told the Telvanni were assembling an army of Dwemer centurions and other constructs. The only thing we had going for us, Sarethi noted, was that the Temple was sending another group to help.

That night, on the eve of battle, I felt a strange feeling. Fear. This emotion had not plagued me for some time, and I wondered why it crept up now. Anxiously, I bided the time by playing dice with the others. When Azura's hour rose, we began our journey east. Moving quickly, we followed foyadas and went up and down hills of ash, until we viewed the metal spires of a dwemer city. Sneaking towards the entrance, we came upon three skeleton warriors, easily cut down from afar. The great circular iron door now stood ahead, unobstructed. "Where are those damn soldiers the Temple promised?" Sarethi muttered.

"We'll just have to kill the Telvanni before they get here, then," Omani, another rogue, boasted. He dashed inside.

"Stupid!" Sarethi hollered, "You don't know...well, it looks like we have to do this by ourselves," he angrily went in, and we followed.

The first rectangular room was dimly lit, with pillars arranged in a square. Torches provided a small amount of light, leading to a hallway out of the room, which we followed. At the end of it we found Omani in a dome, staring down two centurions with another at his feet. He had been cut and was dripping blood. I charged the nearest one, my stormsword glowing with magick. The construct blocked my first swing high, but I quickly fortified my strength and pushed its weapon away, leaving an open path for my blade to follow it. My next stroke cut at the robot's chest, and sent a wave of electricity through its body. The machine shook and twitched and then shut down. Ranks of dwemer machines now had entered the dome, and all of our party was engaged in combat. Flayrah, the healer who helped me, had stopped Omani's healing, and he was now capable of putting up some fight. Sarethi was moving through the fight like a wraith, disappearing for a moment in front of an enemy, then appearing again in back of it, swinging his blade, and finally disappearing again.

I met another Centurion coming towards me. It swung its sword in a chop near my head, but I dodged, sent a blast of light in its eyes and thrust my longsword in its center. The blow not only shut it's systems down, but the lightning running through the body caused it to explode. A Centurion Archer aimed at me, but I quickly drew a dagger and threw it into the head, shutting it down. There were a great many enemies, and one by one our number dropped until we were only half of what we came with. After confusing and decapitating an enemy, I heard a shrill voice, "ENOUGH!" Three mages in red robes were standing atop of the stairs that the Centurions had used to attack us from.

The machines stopped their attack, and moved off. For a moment I relaxed, but the lead Mage cast a giant fireball at us. I dived away; Sarethi and a few others were engulfed and vaporized in the flame. I understood now; the Telvanni didn't want to use up more Centurions and instead wished to kill us themselves. Omani screamed a deathcry and charged up the stairs, but he only made it half the way because the Telvanni send a bolt of magicka into Omani, killing him instantly. Now the lead mage descended the steps and surveyed the damage. "I want the live one for my research," He left.

Three Centurions came up to me. I dropped my sword and followed them, aware that my fear had warned this would happen.

I languished in the cell for some time. I cannot be sure of the length of my stay, because night and day did not pass in the dimly lit room. Two Centurions, my guards, shared the room with me. They folded into balls after a time, but sprung to life whenever I moved at all. An uneasy sleep came upon me.

I woke to the sound of screams and the clashing of armor. The screams stopped, but the metal did not, only getting louder. I wondered if it was the soldiers that the Temple had promised. A sharp tapping on the door manifested itself, and the Centurions activated themselves, ready to assail whatever was trying to get in. The door burst open, revealing a magnificent warrior. His body was covered with enchanted ebony armor, he wore a beautiful helm in the figure of some daedra, and he carried a wonderful sword burning with an ethereal fire. But he himself seemed to exude some aura of strength and greatness. The Centurions moved to attack the warrior, but with one mighty swing of his burning sword, the machines were swallowed by flame and became a pile of ashes

The warrior extended a hand to me and said, "I'll get you out of here, were you with Sarethi's group?"

I took his powerful hand and replied, "Yes," I hadn't realized that my friends were dead, and it was hitting me now.

"I'm sorry, he was a good man," he smiled, "Yes, even I, the Nerevarine did work for a mercenary."

"Nerevarine!" I blurted out.

"Oh heh you didn't know. Most people recognize me, and it gets tiresome. They want me to do things for them, but they used to hate me as well. I wish people would do things for me."

He led me through the dwemer ruins, complaining about how hard it was to be the true Incarnate; though he was quite modest. To tell the truth, I was lost in his greatness and hung on his every word. When we reached the dome where so many had fought, I walked towards the body of the rogue Telvanni Mage. Eyeing him curiously, I noticed him muttering a curse aimed at the Nerevarine, but I quickly kicked him, ending his life.

"You saved my life, I thank you!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, any would have done so," I replied, happy to do my part even still.

"But not many have, I shall treasure our friendship," My face turned so read I'm sure that steam ran off my ears.

"You're an outlander, aren't you?" he asked, abruptly.

I hadn't realized that my body was completely covered with armor and none of my light skin was showing, "Yes, I'm Cyrodiilic."

"I see, I could tell because any Dunmer would have insisted that he could have escaped by himself. I'm an outlander myself, you know."

"No Lord, I didn't know that," I was surprised about this, but I was accustomed to strange facts now.

"Oh hey, don't call me Lord; we're both two Outlanders in a foreign land, hey?

I agreed to not call him Lord, and we emerged outside the ruin. "Why don't you come with me back to Vivec, seeing as though you're out of an employer? I might find something for you, and it was my fault since I had trouble finding the place and was fatally tardy," he seemed to be genuinely sorrowful for his mistake, though I did not have the capacity to become angry at the Great Nerevarine.

On the road to Vivec, the Incarnate impressed upon me his loneliness, "You know, I never got a chance to meet a woman. There was this one Khajit, but I'm not really into beast people, in a romantic sense. Most people are just respectful to me, they are made nervous by my prescence! Can you believe it Latius? Anyway, that makes them reserved; they don't want to get to know me."

The cantons of Vivec now appeared in view. Majestic, and grand. I curiously wondered what the Savior of Morrowind had in store for me.

The Incarnate led me through the canals and tremendous cantons of Vivec. As we passed, the residents bowed low and chanted, "Nerevarine, Nerevarine." Even the smug and haughty Ordinators nodded their heads. "See what I mean Latius?" Nerevar-Reborn chuckled, and showed me to his St. Delyn Villa. It was a comfortable affair, nice furniture and space was plentiful, but it lacked a certain homey touch, as if the owner didn't spend much time inside at all.

"Welcome to...my Vivec home!" he grinned wildly, "There's the dining room, there's the living room, there's my bedroom, and there's yours!" After he opened the door, I peeked in and observed a bare room; a bed and a table. "Oh, I guess you lost your weapon at that necromancer, you can have one of mine, hehehe-I've got plenty," he suggested,

"No, I couldn't..."

"Please, they just clutter things up." We walked over to a table in his bedroom. It was littered with amazing weapons of different shapes and sizes, all enchanted, all seemed to glitter with energy. The Incarnate picked up a giant longblade speckled with green, "This might tickle your fancy," he handed it to me. It was a heavy thing, but easy to utilize with two hands. "Nice," I marveled.

"It's Chrysamere, the legendary Imperial steel. Yes, I see that I was right in thinking you were in the Legion. No, I don't mind, I was a knight myself," he smiled.

The Incarnate's easy-going nature was simply not a good impression of him, or underestimation. I could see how he had managed to become the Hortator of Morrowind.

Over the next few days, the Incarnate spent much of his time out and about doing things he found not worth mentioning, "You know, talking with the old boys," so I wandered around the ancient city. Conditions were surprisingly calm. If there was initial chaos after the Collapse, it was all but over now. Merchants hawked their wares loudly, and the Ordinators looked on in disapproval. Great House couriers picked their way through the crowds, in their eternal rush. As an outlander, I was still treated with a certain respect; perhaps instead of deference it was pity.

After I had spent three days of doing nothing, the Nerevarine took me to a low- class tavern. We sat at a small table and ordered scuttle and bread. "This is one of my favorite places in Vivec," he said, "When the Temple had a price on my head, they gave me a something to eat and a bed to sleep in. Anyways, I've been trying to find something for you to do, a job that'll fit you. There are two major powers in Morrowind now. One is King Helseth, but to be in his employ, you'd have to be the treacherous, cloak and dagger type, and that's not you. The other is the Temple; they need adventurers and soldiers, the type to go dungeon diving. Houses Hlaalu and Dres side with the King, but houses Redoran and Indoril are with the Temple. But that doesn't mean the leadership of either side is much different. They're both interested in power, though both sides use honest servants. I know because I've been such a servant. You might think that I should be the leader of Morrowind, but I doubt if that'll ever happen. It hurts me so bad...you see...I been having dreams. Dreams of great armies, of Red Mountain, of Almalexia, and of Azura, especially Azura. I don't understand them, they all start off by my commanding a great army, holding court of a great kingdom, and then of my losing the army...and the kingdom, they end after I kill Vivec. In any case, the only way that I could unite a great army would be if this nation were attacked. I suppose the Nords could have designs on Morrowind, although they could be easily beaten off, you see they might a violent people, but they also are a band of drunken rabble. On our side, the combined armies of Morrowind bring several factors important to any military:

HlaaluBlack ops  
RedoranWarriors  
IndorilKnights  
TelvanniMages  
DresCalvalry  
AshlandersScouts  
  
Let's look at some of the things unique to Morrowind:  
  
1) Dres aerial calvalry: They have giant flying wasps. You could fly higher than any Nord could reach, and rain magicka and arrows down on the attacking fools.  
2) Silt Striders: A fine commanding post with a great, scenic view of the blood-soaked battlefield, with the great bonus of being able to have skilled Telvanni mages make it rain hell for Rolaf! All yours for the incredible low price of free! $20 mail-in rebate! Free refund!  
3) Rotumbos: You've probably never heard of them, but here's the poop. They're like bigger guars. If the guar is the mule of Morrowind, the Rotumbo is the war-horse of Morrowind. It looks weird as hallucinations, and Rolaf's never seen anything like it. Makes devastating charges when coupled with warrior  
4) Nix Hounds: Although many people are unaware of it, Nix Hounds are used in combat as war-hounds. Send them charging into Rolaf's charge, and watch em' think they're being attacked by some sort of "demon" Snickers  
5) Centurions. Telvanni recently learned how to make them. Good for defensive purposes, since it's too cold for them in Skyrim. I don't know about you, but if I was being attacked by a six-foot tall robot that didn't fall dead when I stabbed it right through the heart, I'd $#! my pants. Rolaf would, too. I asked.  
6) Daedra. "But Daedra aren't native to Morrowind, they're native to another dimension!" But that doesn't prevent Dunmeri Priests and Priestesses from summoning Winged Twilights and Golden Saints to kick some r$e. Now I know for a fact that Rolaf and Rolf have never, ever seen a Winged Twilight or Golden Saint before. Don't even _try_ to argue that. The Daedra are demons to the Nords, legends and myths more than the thing that's going to roast then eat your body. To the Dunmer, they are ancestors, real and solid, more a revered and distant kinsman than legend and myth.  
7) The Dunmer can summon their dead to fight for them. No, the Dunmer wouldn't find such a thing abhorrent. It'd be more like, "Oh Greatfather Yakim, kin of this one, come and fight with me in this hour of my need..." than "Do as I say, rude spirit!" The latter is what necromancers like I do. The former is what the Dunmer do.  
  
Still think that Skyrim stands a chance against the Dunmer? Guess what. Rolaf and his brother Rolf couldn't tell their r$e from their elbow when it comes to tactics. Yakim and his brother Yakhun sure could, because that's how the Houses fight.  
  
And the Ordinators and Bouyant Armigers. We cannot forget about them. They're the elite of Morrowind. You couldn't beat them if you had several squads of them facing you.  
  
The Velothi Mountains alone would serve to hinder any land attacks, and the Nords would have a heck of a time raiding cities along the coast, seeing as how most of them are in the nigh-in navigable Inner Sea, which seperates Vvardenfell from the Mainland. Try sailing a ship through there, and you'll crash half your fleet on the rocks, and all the men onboard those ships would be torn apart by slaughterfish and dreugh before you could save most of them. Then, when you got there, the Dunmer would already have seen you coming to raid strategically unimportant cities in the Inner Sea, and would have a sizeable defense force waiting for you, already dug in, waiting to kill you.  
  
And if you think you could get around to major cities outside the Inner Sea on the coast, not many of those are near Skyrim. Most are on the other side of Morrowind, thank you very much. Only a few cities are near the Skyrim border and on the coast. Those could easily have a few Telvanni mages shoot fireballs at the ships, setting them on fire, and dooming most men onboard. Then, you could shoot burning arrows at them, setting the sails and probably the ships on fire. Don't forget that would also pierce a good number of men with arrows that also burn, and with all that cloth the nords have to wear to keep from freezing, I think it's safe to say they'd catch quickly. And let's not forget that I could kill off every Nord attacking Morrowind. Now imagine me with three hundred soldiers."

I nodded, as a Nord invasion of Morrowind would surely fail if the Nerevarine was defending. He never talked of himself in a boastful, or arrogant manner, and wouldn't lie about his own strength now. I realized something, "Didn't you say that you were looking for a job for me?"

"Oh yeah, I've asked around, and I think I might get you a position as a Buoyant Armiger," he stated with pride.

"Me, a buoyant armiger? I thought you had to be born in Morrowind for that," I was doubtful

"Yeah, but I reminded Mertis that I was an Outlander myself, and he needs as many soldiers as he can get. He has to realize that times have changed. Wait, the only thing you'll have to do is swear your loyalty to Vivec."

"I think I can do that."

The Incarnate smiled, "Then be at Vivec's Palace, dawn tomorrow."

Rosy fingered dawn rose lazily over the ziggurat spires of Vivec's Palace. It climbed the stairs, and rose above; like an angel saying goodbye. I appeared many hours before dawn, resplendent in my glass armor, the Great Chrysamere strapped to my back. One by ones, young dunmer appeared. They looked to be confident although I sensed a bit of unease in some of them.

Some time later, Rathyn Omarel, our drillmaster, appeared before us with the sign of recall. He smiled at those assembled, introduced himself, and lectured, "So you wish to serve Vivec, Ha!" he looked at us for some time, "Very well. I will teach you the ways of the happy and the brave." He drew his dagger, raised it and roared, "Ai!" and we were compelled to chant with him.

Over the next few weeks Omarel taught us to survive in the wilderness, and to fight a wide assortment of enemies. Most of the items covered were things I had already learned on my own, and so I easily earned the respect of my peers. Jundo, a proud Redoran student honored me, "Latius, when I first saw you, I thought you were a brainless Imperial who had forgotten he had no place here. But for whatever reason you have proven you can be a better Buoyant Armiger than even us Dunmer. Vivec himself must have willed it." He bowed deeply.

The training was not only physical, however. We were taught to love life, and to depend on each other. Our drillmaster even became our friend and confidant. Such teaching contrasted with my original Imperial instruction. Those old drillmasters inspired hate, so we would try and overcome them. The way of anger. Anger is not violence, but it is similar. Violence is never warring, or the way of the true warrior. Anger is part of the reason the Empire was doomed to fail. Anger was not a detriment to its inception. With anger, we were taught to depend on the Empire. One cannot unlock their potential through dependence. Rage is not a good tool to fight with, and dependence is not tool to live with.

Everything culminated in a mission through the Puzzle Canal in Vivec. It would test our skills in combat, and in aptitude. A final examination; those not completing the task did not become Buoyant Armigers. I was the first to go. Diving through the cool waters and killing the simple Daedra canals containing, I quickly made my way through the dungeon. I had proven to myself that I did not fight with rage, and that I could depend on myself. But mortals need more than that, they need to know that those around them are loyal; some hold a higher price on this than anything else. At the end of the waterworks I plunged my body into the cold water; pledging my eternal allegiance to Vivec. It was enough.

The graduation ceremony was held on Red Mountain, to honor those who had died to contain it. Blue skies and beautiful vistas contrasted with the hard black rock and the red lava still lying dormant. Omarel spoke, "Congratulations, to all of you. May you serve sound as Buoyant Armigers for the rest of your lives. Now, I will read to you a poem for us. Intended for warriors, and not scholars," He opened an ancient book:

Welcome my Armigers

Those merry tribesmen who serve me

Listen to me

I am your God;

Take heed of the Desert Warrior

A scheming Princess awaits your doom

Avoid the Forest Archer

The Darkness of the place is your foe;

Do you hear the music

Happiness is yours to take

Hidden in a cave somewhere

Or in your soul;

Even now the world cringes

Of a time when all was chaos

A great light came

And you were there;

So go now

Fight for the glory of true love

True happiness

Share a place on my Tower;

I give you this as Vivec


End file.
